


A Seasoned S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent's Guide to Suriving at S.H.I.E.L.D.

by Illusinia



Series: SHIELD Insanity [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Gen, S.H.I.E.L.D. survival tips, new recruits doing stupid things, seasoned agents doing stupid things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-09 19:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the blog 'Survival Tips for S.H.I.E.L.D. Recruits'. If anyone knows the author of the blog, please let me know. I couldn't find it on the site.<br/>http://shieldrecruitsurvivaltips.tumblr.com/</p><p>Meet Rowan Le Fey, seasoned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and new leader of the team that will be offering ground support to the Avengers. That is, if the new recruits survive their training.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Recruits (SHIELD SURVIVAL TIP ONE: Don't forget to refill the coffee maker)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Survival Tips for S.H.I.E.L.D. Recruits](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/20724) by Survival Tips for S.H.I.E.L.D. Recruits. 



> Normally, I wouldn't do a story this filled with primary original characters. But in this case, it seemed like establishing a team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents (because lets face it, outside of the comics we don't know many of the agents) was the best way to go. So, enjoy their random adventures and the insanity that ensues.
> 
> Just a quick note: Rowen Le Fay has Level 9 security clearance and Tom Markson has Level 7. The reason Le Fay's is so high will be explained in the story, but I wanted to point this out early on so their knowledge of Agent Coulson's survival would be understood.

“Ah, Agent Le Fey, just who I wanted to see,” greeted Fury, the almost eery half smile on his face. It was the one that said 'you're not going to like what I have to say, but I'm going to enjoy doing this'. It made her shiver.

 

Rowen Le Fey had only ever seen that look aimed at her once, and it had resulted in her being sent to seduce a Norwegian arms dealer. Said dealer had ended up with several broken bones and had nearly lost his balls. They hadn't allowed her on an undercover mission that required seducing a target since. She'd gotten them the information they needed though, so she hadn't lost her job at least.

 

Closing the door to Fury's office, Rowen wearily approached the director's desk. “Is there something you needed sir?”

 

“As a matter of fact, there is,” confirmed Fury, gesturing for her to sit down. Once she was seated, he turned towards one of the corners of the office and motioned for someone else to step forward. Rowen turned sharply around to face the second person. Coulson offered her one of his impersonal smiles as he stepped away from the corner he'd been hiding in to take the other seat in front of Fury's desk. “You _are_ familiar with Agent Coulson, correct Agent Le Fey?”

 

“You know I am, sir,” confirmed Rowen, raising an eyebrow at Coulson wearily. The rumor around the level 7 S.H.I.E.L.D agents now was that the man in question was invincible. Then again, being stabbed in the chest and surviving would do that to a man.

 

Nodding, Fury offered her the same unnerving smile. “Agent Coulson recently made the suggestion that the Avengers could use some...support when dealing with large-scale catastrophes. After this alien invasion fiasco, I agree. A group to supply ground support to local law enforcement and aid in evacuations as well as supply the Avengers with information and possibly even minor combat support would be an asset.” Pointing at Rowen mildly, he let that smile turn to a smirk. “You are one of our most unflappable agents, well organized and capable of handling chaos without so much as a blink of your eye. So, at Agent Coulson's recommendation, I have decided to place you in charge of heading our newest team of special picks to assist the Avengers in both ground and intelligence support.”

 

Rowen wanted to both groan and drop her face into her hands. This could not be happening. Special picks probably meant new recruits who had just barely passed the basic training sequences. The word “special” usually meant specialists which, well necessary, often didn't include people who were exceedingly skilled in combat. That wasn't always true, but if they were on a support staff, it was a good bet they weren't combat ready. And she would be expected to bring them up to speed. This couldn't end well; she wasn't a damn babysitter and she wasn't a teacher. They didn't want her to be a teacher. She sucked at teaching. “Sir, permission to speak?”

 

“Do you have an objection, Agent Le Fey?” asked Fury, his eyes narrowing in a way that made most people want to curl in on themselves. Or at least, it should. Her panic was a little high for her mind to recognize the warning at the moment though, so she didn't even attempt to pretend to be afraid.

 

Seriously, she was more afraid of teaching new recruits than she was of Fury. Which, given she wasn't really afraid of Fury, wasn't actually saying much. Teaching still terrified her though. “With all due respect, sir, I don't feel I'm capable of offering proper instruction to new recruits.”

 

One of Coulson's eyebrows rose in his usual sign of mild disbelief. “You _are_ familiar with S.H.I.E.L.D protocol, correct Agent Le Fey?”

 

“Yes, sir,” confirmed Rowen, glaring at Coulson slightly. “You've seen my reports.”

 

Fury leaned forward, laying his arms across his desk. “So what, exactly, is the problem Agent Le Fey?”

 

And this was where she had no clue what to say. Honestly? Saying you were afraid of teaching a bunch of new recruits because you thought there was a possibility someone (namely one of the recruits) could end up dead wasn't a good reason. Otherwise, Barton and Romanov wouldn't be allowed within five miles of a recruit. “I'm concerned about my ability to teach, sir.”

 

“I'm unconcerned,” dismissed Coulson. It took all of her willpower not to wince. Of course Coulson would be encouraging this. He just had a be a derisive prick. Then again, he probably believed this was a _good_ idea. He was the only person who probably believed she could legitimately teach. No, there was no one who could believe that, at least no one who knew her as well as he did. _So why would he...oh by the gods._

 

Rowen felt her jaw locking up with the amount of pressure she was gripping it with. Damn it, there was no way she could call Coulson out on this bullshit. What was she going to say? This was revenge for forgetting to refill the damn coffee pot? It sounded crazy, but Coulson was just enough of a prick to do something like this in retaliation. And Fury would completely go along with it. _Pricks. They're both bloody pricks._

 

“If Agent Coulson has no concerns and you have no valid objections, Agent Le Fey, then I see no reason why you shouldn't be assigned to lead this team of agents,” reasoned Fury. “You are more than qualified, your record is spotless, and your clearance level is already far above those necessary to be completely informed about all matters concerning the Avengers.” Leaning back again, Fury produced a folder from nowhere and offered it to her. “Here are the files on all of your agents. You start their training tomorrow at 0800 sharp on level 3, room 357.”

 

“Yes, sir,” sighed Rowen, taking the proffered folder with a slight scowl. “Is there anything else, sir?”

 

Fury shook his head. “You're dismissed, Agent.”

 

“Thank you, sir.” The fact that she managed to keep the growl out of her voice was a damn miracle. Drawing a sketchy salute at Fury and completely ignoring Coulson, she almost ran from the room before she said something stupid. She was never going to forget to refill the coffee pot again.


	2. Ribbing and Meeting the Newbies (Survival Tip #2: Clint Barton And His NERF Weapons)

“Hey, Witchy!”

 

Rowen wanted to groan as Tom Markson's voice echoed down the S.H.I.E.L.D. hallway. She loved Tom on some level, she really did; he was a fine man and knew how to handle himself in an emergency, which she would know because she'd worked with him for five years. But he also had a tendency to rib her to the point where she wanted to punch him. In the balls. Hard enough that he'd never get his voice back to normal. And she knew this reassignment was rib-worthy in his book. _Just remember, he's your friend even though he's a complete ass sometimes. You don't want to kill your friends and the friends you have here can't survive being dropped off the side of a five story building._

 

“Tom,” greeted Rowen as the blond haired man caught up with her. In some ways, he reminded her of Agent Barton with his messy slightly-longer-than-regulation blond hair and build. That and the way he'd crawl through the vents playing tag with Barton. There were more than a few damaged ceiling tiles because of those two. Come to think of it, the two could probably be twins, except Tom didn't play with medieval weapons at work. “What's going on?”

 

“I heard you got reassigned,” replied Tom, brow furrowing in a show of concern. “What happened? Are you alright?”

 

Rowen sighed, nodding. “I'm fine and I was reassigned. Fury gave me a team. We're going to be ground back-up for the Avengers Initiative.”

 

“Seriously?” asked Tom, eyebrows rising and any concern immediately disappearing. “That's awesome. It's a promotion, not a demotion. Everyone's talking about it like you got remanded to babysitting duty.”

 

“Because I did,” explained Rowen, shifting the papers in her hands. “They gave me a team of new special recruits to work with.”

 

Tom stopped in his tracks, prompting Rowen to pause as well. Until she saw the grin spreading over his face, that is. “You've been remanded to babysitting duty.”

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Rowen. “I have been.”

 

Shaking his head, the grin faded to a look of worry. “Wait, they're asking you to teach newbies? _You?_ The woman who was banned from working within twenty feet of any new recruits for a year after ten of them quit within a week because you scared them off?”

 

“Yes,” repeated Rowen. “I think it's a bad idea, too.”

 

“This goes beyond 'bad idea',” corrected Tom. “Who had the epiphany that this would work? And why _you_?”

 

“Apparently one of the senior agents,” replied Rowen with a roll of her eyes, careful not to mention Coulson's name. Fury was still keeping his identity under wraps and, well she knew Tom knew about Agent Coulson, they weren't in a restricted area for level 7 personnel either. Besides, there was only one senior agent who'd dare suggest this mess, and she knew Tom knew that. “And I'm assuming it's because I forgot to refill the coffee pot three weeks ago.”

 

Tom's eyebrow rose in disbelief. “Wasn't it also _midnight_?”

 

“Yep,” confirmed Rowen with a sigh. “It was.”

 

Her partner looked ready to say something more, but a NERF arrow stopped him. Specifically, it landed right over his mouth. And stuck. “Mf! Mhmf mh mffhm.”

 

“That's not nice!” called Barton from one of the open ceiling tiles as Tom started to pull at the NERF arrow. “You should _respect_ your superiors, Markson!”

 

“I'm pretty sure there's no respect involved when you seal someone's mouth with a NERF arrow,” remarked Rowen dryly, reaching out to help Tom unseal the edge of the toy.

 

Barton just laughed and ducked back into one of the ceiling tiles down the hall. “Whatever you say, Le Fey.”

 

The arrow popped off suddenly, falling into Rowen's hand. She didn't blink as she spun it around and offered the fletching to Tom. “Well, that was rude.”

 

“It's Barton,” muttered Tom, taking the arrow and rubbing at the area around his mouth. He was grinning though, so obviously his pride wasn't too hurt. “I'll get him back, you'll see.”

 

“Right, have fun with that,” muttered Rowen as she started back down the hallway.

 

Tom started after her. “Just let me know if Barton bothers you, I'll take care of it.”

 

Rowen snorted. “Please, he's not going to bother me.”

 

“What makes you say that?” asked Tom, raising an eyebrow at her. “He bothers everyone. Including Fury.”

 

“Because I got into a prank war with Barton my first year here,” replied Rowen with a shrug. “Fury barred either of us from pranking or shooting at each other after we accidentally dyed half the Armory staff green.”

 

Both of Tom's brows shot up at that. “You guys were the ones responsible for that?”

 

Rowen nodded, sighing heavily. “Yeah, don't remind me. I'm still not sure how I got dragged _into_ that mess to begin with.”

 

“Barton is just good like that,” supplied Tom, stopping with her in front of Room 357. “Good luck in there and try not to kill, maim, or scar anyone too badly.”

 

“I'll try,” muttered Rowen, “but no guarantees.”

 

Tom nodded, offering her an encouraging grin. “Lunch?”

 

“Sounds excellent,” sighed Rowen as she pushed the door open and stepped into the room.

 

Four faces looked back at her, wide-eyed and a little frightened. Great. Her reputation apparently preceded her. Still, she was here to do a job and she would do it.

 

Forcing herself not to sigh, again, she moved to the front of the room where a table was set up and dropped her pile of papers. “Alright everyone, my name is Rowen Le Fey. Yes, I share a name with an evil sorceress from a 12th century manuscript. No, I am not evil despite popular belief.”

 

One of the new recruits raised her hand, a black haired Asian girl with wide brown eyes who Rowen recalled being named Angela Kaswaski. She was also the only girl assigned to the team besides Rowen. “Does that mean the story about you breaking Agent Markson's spine is false?”

 

“That one is true,” admitted Rowen. She wasn't going to lie to the new recruits; that wasn't a good way to start off her relationship with what is supposed to be her team. “But it was a sparring accident. Agent Markson did not, in fact, attempt to make unwanted advances towards me. That was Agent Collender, who is no longer with us because S.H.I.E.L.D. has very strict sexual harassment policies.”

 

“And you broke several bones,” added a different recruit, a young man named Matthew Gent. The brown-haired young man was leaning back in his seat, looking as casual as could be. His file had noted he was smart and talented, but apparently he didn't always show his superiors respect. Rowen was seeing it, but wasn't seeing a problem so far. If she was honest, the man reminded her of Tom and he was a good agent despite his disrespect towards authority. So was Barton, for that matter.

 

One of Rowen's eyebrows rose in response. “Was it your brother or your cousin who told you that tidbit, Agent Gent?”

 

“Brother,” replied Matthew with a shrug and grin. “He's told me a _lot_ about you.”

 

“Of course he has,” muttered Rowen, reaching for the pile of papers and separating them into packets. “I'm going to assume someone has already bothered to give you a S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol manual and that you've read it. If you haven't, do it. It's not my job to make sure you know the regulations. It's my job to make sure you don't fuck up and blow something or someone sky high.”

 

Walking to the person closest to her, a dark-skinned young man with a military regulation hair cut named Arthur Corvin, she dropped the pile of packets on the desk in front of him. “These folders contain two things: a summary of our assignment, or what your assignment will be once I'm satisfied you're field ready, and a notebook labeled 'Survival Tips'. Take one and pass it on.” Arthur nodded and did as she said.

 

Turning back to the table in the front of the room, Rowen leaned casually back and folded her arms in front of her. “I'm going to do all of you a favor and pass on my experience here so you don't make the same mistakes as me. S.H.I.E.L.D deals with some weird ass shit, there's no other way to describe it. And as a result, we have some equally weird ass people working here. They have their quirks, so we have some really strange and unwritten rules. These tips are a combination of warnings and rules that you need to know to survive here. Take out the notebooks.”

 

She scanned the room as everyone did as she said, watching as they opened the notebooks and examined them. When everyone had their notebook out, she continued. “Tip #1: Always refill the coffee pot if you empty it. I don't care if it's midday or midnight, do it.”

 

“Seriously?” challenged Matthew. “Why would it matter?”

 

“Because if you don't, you'll end up teaching a group of special recruits even though you were previously barred from coming within twenty feet of any new recruits because you scared ten off in a week,” explained Rowen. “And believe me, they'll do it.”

 

Nathan Hunter, a weapons specialist with startling red hair and really bright green eyes, blinked up at her in surprise. “Wait, does that mean you aren't qualified to teach us?”

 

Rowen shook her head. “No, I'm completely qualified. I've been with S.H.I.E.L.D for seven years, have a relatively spotless record, and know the regulations like the back of my own hand. That doesn't mean that I'm a teacher, it just means I know how things work around here. I'm here teaching you because I forgot to refill the coffee pot. They chose to punish me this way though, because I'm still qualified to do this work. Any other questions?”

 

Everyone just blinked at her silently, prompting her to continue. “Alright, Tip #2: always be aware of the ceiling tiles. Agent Barton uses the ceiling as his own personal jungle gym and hunting grounds. He will shoot at you randomly with NERF weapons. Please don't fire back with real bullets. The last agent who did that had to deal with Agent Romanov and I will not be responsible for cleaning your blood off the ceiling. Understand?”

 

The combination of frightened and wide-eyed looks told her they did. “Good, we're done for today. Read the files I gave you and become familiar with your positions. We start with weapons training tomorrow. All of you have already passed the weapons tests, otherwise you wouldn't be here. What we're going to look at is everyone's weapon of choice and how we can work together. Dismissed.”

 

No one moved or really blinked, not that Rowen was surprised. She didn't expect anyone to response to her dismissal. Without much thought, she picked up her own folder and left the room to find Tom. It would be an early lunch, but it sounded better than hanging out with the new recruits. She had a feeling this assignment was going to be a nightmare until the newbies got their feet under them. Hopefully, it wouldn't take that long.

 


	3. Uncomfortable Encounters with Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tip #3: Don't offer to expose Steve Rogers to the 21st century.

“Excuse me, Agent Le Fey?”

 

Rowen paused halfway down the hallway, glancing behind her with a raised eyebrow. No one was ever that polite to her unless they were afraid, which was, admittedly, a lot of people. This, however, wasn't one of them. “Captain Rogers, can I help you?”

 

Captain Steve Rogers offered her a smile and rubbed the back of his head a little. “I'm hoping so, ma'am. Agent Hill informed me that you were heading up a support team that would work with the Avengers.”

 

“That's correct,” confirmed Rowen. “If you're concerned, you can speak with Director Fury. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.”

 

The alarm that crossed Steve's face would have been amusing if it wasn't directed at her. “Are _you_ concerned about this team, Agent Le Fey?”

 

Rowen rolled her eyes. “Just call me Rowen, Captain Rogers. We aren't in a meeting and I abhor unnecessary formality. We're all warriors here and out in the field, ranks don't mean squat.”

 

“You sound like someone who lived through the war,” remarked Steve with a shake of his head. “Most people don't think like that.”

 

“I'm a non-traditionalist,” explained Rowen with a shrug. “Plus, I've seen my fair share of fights and the accompanying chaos.”

 

Nodding, Steve offered her one of the boyish grins that he was infamous for. The sad part was that the smile was completely genuine, not an attempt to trick or wheedle favors from anyone; bloody hell, the man really was perfect. Even she would have issues resisting him.

 

One of his hands extended towards her, the gin still in place. “If I'm gonna call you Rowen, then please call me Steve.”

 

“I can do that,” agreed Rowen, carefully taking his hand. “So what can I do for you, Steven? Er, Steve.”

 

Both of Steve's eyebrows rose. “Steven? I haven't been called that since the war.”

 

“I'm sorry for the slip,” apologized Rowen. “Steven rolls off the tongue easier.”

 

“It's fine,” assured Steve. “You can call me Steven if it's easier.” His brow furrowed a little, as if he was considering something. “Do you have a bit of an accent or was I hearing things?”  
  


Rowen smiled a little. She'd read the file on Steve's war-time British lover. Well, almost lover. It wasn't a surprise the man could pick up even a faint accent. “My mum is British. I lost a lot of the accent when I moved out here, but it still comes out every now and then. Mostly when I'm angry.”

 

“So if I hear someone yelling with a British accent, it's probably you?” asked Steve, grin widening.

 

“Probably,” confirmed Rowen, her own easy smile matching his. “Now, what can I do for you?”

 

“Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself,” answered Steve, a bit sheepishly. “I wanted to at least meet the man- er, woman in charge of leading the support team.”

 

Watching Steve stumble nervously was actually kind of cute, in a 'embarrassed puppy' sort of way. It made Rowen smile. “Well, you've met me now.”

 

“So I have,” agreed Steve. He paused for a second, seeming to consider something, before offering Rowen another of his boyish smiles. “Would it be too forward for me to ask yo-”

 

“Hey Witchy!” shouted a voice form the down the hall. Rowen groaned, recognizing Tom's voice immediately. “Guess what?”  
  


“You've finally grown up enough to know that calling me 'Witchy' is a good way to get your ass kicked?” tried Rowen hopefully. She pretty much knew Tom wouldn't stop at this point; he found it too entertaining.

 

“Nope,” replied Tom, grin still in place as he threw an arm around her shoulders. “Try again.”

 

“I don't know Tom, you won the lottery,” guessed Rowen, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I really don't have the patience for this right now and I have to go train a bunch of children how to shoot various types of guns they're completely unfamiliar with in ten minutes.”

 

“They've got you on gun training? That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.” Barton's voice was unmistakable and coming from the ceiling. Which wasn't a surprise. What was a surprise was the sound of a female 'oomph' coming from the same place.

 

Tom glanced up at the ceiling in concern. “You know Barton, ceiling sex sounds a lot more entertaining than it actually is.”

 

“Ha, ha, ha,” countered Barton's voice. A moment later, one of the tiles above their head was lifted away to reveal Barton's face, along with Angela's. “I was just trying to find Agent Le Fey so I could return one of her little goslings.”

 

“And you decided to do this by crawling around the ceiling because...” started Rowen, watching as Angela carefully lowered herself out of the ceiling.

 

“Because it's faster,” replied Barton with a grin. “Plus A) I was already up here and B) I've decided she's cool enough to learn the passageways.”

 

“Wonderful, you're turning my students into ceiling rats like yourself,” muttered Rowen, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

A sudden squeak from Angela caught Rowen's attention, just as the girl lost her grip on the ceiling and tumbled down. Thankfully, Steve's reflexes were fast enough to catch her before she could hit the ground. She ended up more or less cradled in his arms, to her apparent pleasure.

 

“Oh, wow, thank you,” stated Angela. Her voice was a touch breathy, which made Rowen want to bang her head against the wall. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents weren't supposed to swoon. Well, except for Coulson. He could swoon over Steve all he liked because he was Coulson, but no one on her team was going to swoon over anyone. Apparently, she'd be teaching Angela that.

 

“No problem,” assured Steve, easily setting her on the ground. “Always happy to help.”

 

“I've heard,” replied Angela as she brushed the dust from her uniform. Glancing at Steve, she offered him a coy smile. “So Captain Rogers, last I heard you were still trying to adapt to modern life. Has anyone started educating you on modern culture, technology, or current affairs?”

 

“A little,” confirmed Steve, brow furrowing. “Tony and Darcy try to teach me when they can, but I've got a lot to catch up on.”

 

“Hmm,” hummed Angela, voice completely innocent. A fact that, paired with the smile, was worrying Rowen deeply. “Well, I could always step in and fill any gaps they might not cover. I've been told I'm very good at _exposing_ people to new things.”  
  


“By the gods,” muttered Rowen, pressing one hand over her eyes. She didn't not just hear that. Please, please let that have been an auditory hallucination.

 

“Uh, well, um, that's very nice of you to offer?” tried Steve, stumbling over his words like a school boy facing his first crush. He looked somewhere between embarrassed and completely confused when Rowen dared to look over the edge of her hands. Both Tom and Barton started cracking up like hyenas.

 

 _Bloody hell._ She hadn't misheard. This was worse than she could have imagined. “Agent Kaswaski!”

 

“What?” asked Angela innocently. “My specialty is computers and technology, but I've also spent a fair amount of time on history and current events. I'd be the perfect person to further his education.” Rowen just groaned; she knew exactly what Angela had been suggesting, and it wasn't to teach Steve about computers.

 

And of course, Barton had to make it worse. “I'm pretty sure Witchy would be ideal to teach him about what you're suggesting. She at least matches his preference: British women who are likely to shoot at him if they get pissed.”

 

 _Fuck you, Barton. Let's see how you like this._ Mentally afflicting her heaviest accent, Rowen focused her attention on Tom. “Tom, how angry do you think Agent Romanov would be if I were to beat the crap out of her partner?”

 

“Have at it,” replied Tom with a grin. “Romanov likes you, she won't care. Plus, she'll assume Barton deserved it.”

 

Barton, who had actually frozen as soon as Rowen had started talking, glanced at Tom like he was a traitor before ducking back into the ceiling and replacing the tile. They could hear the rapid sound of someone scrambling over the tiles for a moment before it disappeared.

 

Tom watched Barton go, a slight smirk on his features. “He isn't going to sleep tonight.”

 

“Good,” growled Rowen as she glared in the direction Barton's feet had disappeared to. “He needs to learn to restrain himself.”

 

Shaking his head, Tom grabbed Angela's arm to lead her away. “Just remember, don't get caught.”

 

“Noted,” replied Rowen, focusing on the ceiling tiles above. “Hey Tom, where's Barton's newest nest by the way?”

 

\----------------

 

The next morning when the students gathered in Room 357, Rowen had a white board set up in the front of the room. On it, one thing was written: “Tip #3: Don't offer to 'expose' Captain Rogers to the 21st Century. Especially if Barton is in the room.” Beside it, a photograph of Barton standing nearly naked with hot-pink hair was pinned to the board. An arrow pointed to the photograph with a caption underneath: 'You will face worse if you do'.

 


	4. Why You Don't Volunteer To Work With Stark

Rowen just barely refrained from tapping her foot in irritation. She knew the recruits that Coulson had assigned her were young (all but one of them was barely 21), but being this late for a meeting was just ridiculous. The only reason she hadn't started was that she wanted to impress upon Matthew and Arthur that this wasn't alright. Which meant a public dressing down.

 

Both men stumbled through the room at that exact moment. Their faces were red, as if they'd been scrubbing their skin, and they were both missing their eyebrows. Matthew's hair was singed along the front, his blond hair blackened at the tips. There also appeared to be a large patch of red on his arm which he kept scratching at intermittently along with a spot on his leg.

 

One of Rowen's eyebrows rose in barely contained impatience upon their entrance. She could stare down the scope of a rifle for hours, but put her in a classroom with late students and her patience went out the window. Her accent seeped slightly into her words as she spoke. “Glad you could finally join us Agent Gent, Agent Corvin.” Both men at least had the decency to look sheepish.

 

“Sorry, ma'am,” apologized Arthur. “It won't happen again, ma'am.” He was former Army and the only person in the group over the age of 21. He was 23 and should have known better than to be late. Which was part of what was pissing her off so much.

 

She watched at Arthur elbowed Matthew as well, causing the other man to wince. “Ow, watch it.”

 

“Apologize,” hissed Arthur. “Now.”

 

“Alright, alright,” muttered Matthew, rubbing his side. “Sorry for being late, Boss.”

 

“I'm your commander, not your boss,” reminded Rowen with a sigh. “But I would like an explanation.”

 

“Ma'am?” asked Arthur uncertainly.

 

Rowen rolled her eyes. “I've been working with Agent Markson for five years and have known Agent Barton for seven. I'm sure all of you have either picked up on or heard of their lack of professionalism. Beyond that though, they've taught me there is always a reason for everything. So, what's your reason for being late.”

 

“Uh,” started Matthew, rubbing the back of his neck a little. “You see, we-”

 

“We were assisting Mr. Stark with some tests, ma'am,” supplied Arthur with military precision. “He required assistance testing a new device and asked us to volunteer. He explained we might be field testing it in the future and recommended we assist him now.”

 

“It kinda exploded in our faces,” added Matthew, scratching at his arm. “There was pink goo. It was sticky. And itchy. And took hours to scrub off”

 

“I'd imagine,” muttered Rowen, turning to the board and scribbling down her tip of the day. “Apparently I should have mentioned this one sooner. 'Tip #4: Do not volunteer for any tests that Mr. Stark suggests. Ever.' Please note, this is particularly important if it looks like Stark hasn't slept recently. And by recently, I mean within the last 24-36 hours. The chance something in his lab will explode increases exponentially the longer he goes without sleep once he's passed the 20 hour mark.” Setting down her pen, she turned back to Arthur and Matthew. “Go to the infirmary. Now. Tell them you were assisting Mr. Stark, they'll know what to do. Just don't worry too much when they pull out the haz-mat suits and radiation gear.”

 

“Uh, what?” asked Matthew, even as Arthur took his arm and pulled him from the room.

 

Angela's hand rose. “Agent Le Fey, are they going to die?”

 

“Hopefully not,” replied Rowen. “I really don't feel like breaking in new students this soon.” Gathering her things, Rowen turned towards the door. “We're going to postpone this meeting. Go do whatever it is you do when you're not here, I need to speak with Mr. Stark. And try not to get into trouble. I do _not_ want to get called down to the infirmary today for anyone else.”

 


	5. Misbehaving Recruits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this isn't as funny as the other ones have been. I was already having trouble figuring out how I was going to tie this one in before last week and then, last week, I got the news that my best friend died at 24. So....yeah, my moods are shot right now. So, yeah, if it's not as fun, I apologize.

Rowen groaned sleepily as her cellphone's ring tone cut through the room. Beside her, a second voice groaned as well, arms tightening around her. “Rowen, don't answer it.”

 

“Can't Tom,” muttered Rowen, her voice rough and her accent heavy. If she could get away with that, she would. Unfortunately, it was Coulson's ring tone. “Bloody Coulson calling.” Snatching up her phone, she half-buried her face back into her pillow as she spoke. “What.”

 

“Your students are in lock-up,” informed Coulson's bland voice.

 

Any sleepiness which had been in her system was gone in an instant, replaced by irritation. “Please tell me this is a joke.”  


“I'm afraid not, Agent Le Fey.”

 

Sighing, Rowen sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What did they do? It'll determine if I come bail them out or not.”

 

The sound of shuffling paper echoed over the line for a moment before Coulson spoke again. “I have assault, apparently from a bar fight, destruction of private property, aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, and public indecency. Apparently, one member of the group lost their clothing somewhere in the chaos.”

 

“Oh bloody...what exactly happened?” asked Rowen with a growl, pressing her face against her knees in irritation.

 

Coulson chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Agent Gent is apparently the one who started the bar fight by hitting on a woman at the bar. It turned into a back-room tryst, which the girl's boyfriend walked in on. Hence, the bar fight, assault charge, and public indeceny charge. Agent Corvin has been arrested in conjunction with the fight. Apparently, he attempted to break things up and ended up joining the fight instead when he was thrown into a pool table.

 

“Why am I not surprised,” muttered Rowen. “What about Agent Hunter?”

 

“Agent Hunter smashed every empty drink glass handed to him tonight followed by the call of 'another!',” replied Coulson. “He's the one being charged with intentional destruction of private property. And, before you ask, Agent Kaswaski has been arrested for pinning someone to a wall with a series of knives. Apparently, the man was drunk and hitting on her.”

 

It didn't taken Rowen more than half a second to decide what she wanted to do. “Let them sit in jail for the night. I'll go get them out tomorrow.”

 

“Good choice, Agent Le Fey,” agreed Coulson.

 

Feeling Tom's hand sliding up and down her back, she let some of her frustation flow out of her. “Did they say why they did any of this?”

 

“Apparently, because the Avengers do,” replied Coulson mildly.

 

“That's disturbing,” growled Rowen. “Thank you for notifying me, Agent Coulson.”

 

“Of course, Agent Le Fey.” The echo of a dial tone carried over the line, telling Rowen that Coulson had disconnected the call.

 

Setting her own phone back on the nightstand, she rolled towards Tom with a scowl. “Did you catch all that?”

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Tom, brow furrowing. “What are you gonna do?”

 

“You'll see,” replied Rowen before she burrowed herself back against Tom. “Now go back to sleep. We've got four agents to torture in the morning."

 

\------------------------------ 

 

Four blear-eyed, pained faces rose to look at Rowen as she walked into the room. Tom followed right behind her, smirking slightly along with Barton. He'd run into them in the hallway and asked to be witness to the fury he thought was about to be unleashed. And Rowen would be unleashing her fury on her students. They were going to bring her accent back at this point.

 

“Commander,” greeted Arthur, standing shakily and offering her a salute. If they hadn't managed to so severely piss her off at this point, she might have felt bad for him. She knew Arthur was probably only in here because he refused to abandon the others.

 

Holding her hand out for the keys to the cell, the officer handed the ring over to her with the right one extended. She opened the door without a word, handing the keys back to the officer again before refocusing on her students. Her accent was heavy as she spoke, but every word was easily discernible. “Tip #5: The Avengers should never, under any circumstances, be viewed as behavioral role models. Especially the alien members. If I have to bail you out of jail again for something like this, your punishment _this time_ will look like a bloody walk in the park. Now, I want all of you in the gun range at HQ in twenty minutes. No excuses, no delays. I don't care how hung over you all are, there's water at S.H.I.E.L.D. Go.”

 

Tom and Barton both moved out of the way as all four of the recruits went running from the room as fast as their hung-over bodies could. Which was surprisingly fast given the state they were in. Sighing, Rowen turned to Tom and Barton, smirking at both of them. “Well, are you prepared to make their lives miserable?”

 

“When have you ever known us to pass up the chance to punish others for their stupidity?” asked Tom with a smirk.

 

“Messing with the newbies is always fun,” agreed Barton with a grin. “They'll never want to pull this crap again. Only Avengers can pull this shit off.”  
  
“And even you can't,” remarked Rowen with a sigh and shake of her head, her accent still heavy. “Bloody loons, the lot of 'em.”

 

Barton's eyebrow shot up in surprise. “Is your accent coming back?”

 

“Yes,” growled Rowen. “Now, let's get back to base. We have four recruits to teach a lesson to.”


	6. Dr. Banner is More Than He Appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The recruits learn why you don't irritate Dr. Banner

“Agent Le Fey, Agent Le Fey!”

 

Angela's frantic shouting immediately caught Rowen's attention, which gave Tom the perfect chance to break free from the leg lock she had him in and pin her to the ground. Growling, she struggled against Tom's grip loosely to indicate she wasn't giving up but her focus turned to Angela. “Agent Kaswaski, what's wrong?”

 

“It's Nathan, ma'am,” replied Angela. “I mean, Agent Hunter. He was bored in the labs, where he was supposed to be waiting on some upgrades to his gun, and he started shooting spit balls on Mr. Stark. Well, Mr. Stark didn't appreciate that, so he switched to targeting Dr. Banner but one of his shots caught Dr. Banner in the eye and he fell to his knees and it looked like something really bad was happening!”

 

“Shit,” cursed Rowen.

 

Tom released her immediately, rolling away to grab his gun from the floor beside the mats they'd been using. “I'll get Barton.”

 

“Right,” confirmed Rowen. “I'm going to see if I can contain this before it gets too bad.”

 

“What should I do?” asked Angela as she hoped a bit between her feet. It was a nervous twitch Rowen would have to talk with her about later.

 

“Stay here,” ordered Rowen, watching as Tom scrambled into the vents. “I'll handle this matter. You don't have the training to take down the Hulk yet.”

 

“The hulk!” exclaimed Angela, her eyes going wide. “Why didn't anyone tell us Dr. Banner is the Hulk!”

“Because that information is need-to-know only and we didn't want to release that information until you had all passed basic,” explained Rowen. “We'll discuss this later. Stay here.”

 

Without any further warning, she bolted from the room and headed straight for the labs. _I really, really hope Stark keeps tranquilizers on hand._ Not that she was holding her breath. It was Stark, the man wasn't exactly a boy scout, even if he could design a new power generator inside a cave with spare parts.

 

She'd nearly reached the labs when the wall to the left about twenty feet in front of her blew into the hallway. Along with a very angry Hulk. Both incidents sent her to the ground, her feet sliding out from under her as she tried to stop. Which of course caused her to land in an ungraceful heap on the ground.

 

In front of her, the Hulk's massive form loomed inside the settled dust and plaster. His eyes were pinned on her, gaze narrowed. Without much though, Rowen pulled her hand gun out and began to fire. It wouldn't do anything to actually _stop_ the Hulk (she's been briefed on procedure related to a hulk out), but it would make him angry enough to focus on her rather than anyone else.

 

Scrambling to her feet, Rowen bolted straight for the Hulk and the space between him and the busted wall. It was a risky move, but she needed to contain the damage which meant running the Hulk back through the already destroyed area until Barton could get there with the sedative arrow.

 

Ducking to dodge between his massive body and the wall, she just avoided being grabbed as she darted by and into the room he'd just burst out of. Several more shots left her gun as she broke through the room at a dead run. They needed to reach the lab, it was ground zero and where Hawkeye would head first if he didn't see any sign of the Hulk on his way there.

 

A roar behind Rowen sent a bolt of fear down her spine and propelled her to take off along the existing path of destruction without hesitation. She could hear the Hulk bounding behind her, racing after her as she dodged piles of debris and leapt over toppled furniture. He was bigger than her, which slowed him down a little in the smaller corridor, but his strength meant that he could clear obstacles before she could. Further more, on straight stretches where he could gain speed, he would have the advantage. 

 

 _This is going to be interesting._ Dodging through the room the Hulk had burst out of, she darted through a hole in the wall and broke back into the hallway. The Hulk was still roaring behind her, his footsteps shaking the ground on which she walked. Within seconds, he was running down the hallway himself, every step shaking the ground.

 

For several minutes, all Rowen did was run. And with each step, the Hulk grew closer. She'd nearly reached the labs when she dared to look back for the first time since the chase began.

 

“Shit!” muttered Rowen as a flash of green caught her eye: one of the Hulk's massive hands swinging straight at her. She didn't even think as she threw herself to the side and straight through one of the walls in the hallway. The move landed her in an abandoned lab which was apparently on the other side of the hallway. “I really hope no one saw that.”

 

Unfortunately, she couldn't stay in the room. Instead she used the momentary access to a cleared path to push ahead of the Hulk further before sliding back into the hallway she'd been in before. The hulk was much further behind her, having stopped when she vanished through the wall.

 

As tempting as it was to delay any further running, Rowen knew she needed to lead the Hulk back to the labs if she wanted a chance of having Hawkeye sedate the raging monster. Pressing her fingers to her lips, she let out a sharp whistle that had her wanting to fold back her own ears. God, it was a horrible sound. It caught the Hulk's attention though, his red eyes landing her like a homing missile. She didn't wait for him to start moving, just took off as fast as she could towards the labs. 

 

Not two minutes later, she burst into the destroyed, normally glass-walled lab space reserved by Banner, Stark, and Foster with the Hulk just feet behind her. Unfortunately, it also trapped her in the room with the Hulk. _Wow, I really didn't think this one through. Brilliant, Rowen._

 

The sound of an unhappy snort-like growl behind her made Rowen spin completely around and silently pray that she wasn't about to get eaten. Or beaten into the ground. This thing had kicked Loki's ass, she'd be just as dead as he was if the Hulk got a hold of her.

 

Glaring angrily, the Hulk's eyes were narrowed at her in a way that made Rowen want to sink into the ground. Well, until an arrow landed right between them complete with the syringe containing the sedative they kept on hand for controlling the Hulk. For a moment, the monster blinked at the arrow before toppling forward and passing out.

 

Rowen let out a heavy breath as she stared at the monster, even as the sound of someone landing on the floor behind her echoed through the suddenly silent space. She didn't have to look to know it was Barton. “Thanks, Barton.”

 

“No problem, Witchy,” assured Clint, one of his hands landing on her shoulder and squeezing it gently. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah, I'm fine,” confirmed Rowen, her fear and adrenaline giving way to anger. Turning to look at Barton, she met his eyes and knew from the way he gulped her anger was apparent. “But my agent isn't. Where is Hunter?”

 

Jerking his thumb towards the former lab entrance, she could see the group of her own agents, including Hunter, and lab personal gathered there. Honing in on Hunter, Rowen stormed over to where the group was and paused about ten feet away. She wasn't surprised when her accent came out so heavy, she sounded fresh off the boat. “Agent Hunter!”

 

Nathan gulped but still stepped away from the group. “Yes ma'am?”

 

“If you _ever_ provoke Dr. Banner again, I will personally see to it that you are washed out of S.H.I.E.L.D.,” growled Rowen, her accent as thick as her mother's. “As you all now know, Dr. Banner is more than he seems. Make him angry again, and it comes out of your pay check. Consider that your 'tip of the day'.”

 

Nathan gulped and nodded, backing away quickly. Behind him, the others parted to allow the medics to come through and collect Dr. Banner from the ground. Fury entered as well, offering Rowen a raised eyebrow.

 

“Agent Le Fey?” questioned Fury, cocking an eyebrow slightly at her.

 

Rowen nodded, recognizing his request for her appearance for debriefing. Sighing, she followed Fury out of the room and prepared for what was sure to be a severe berating. Well, assuming Fury didn't call in Coulson and they didn't just spend the whole time laughing at her. Which he might. Out of the corner of her eye, Rowen watched as the medics loaded the now-back-to-normal Banner onto a stretcher and carried him from the room. She would have to visit Dr. Banner later, just to make sure he was okay.

 

\------------------------ 

 

Rowen took a deep breath before she walked into the room where Banner was being kept. He was conscious, though he wasn't sitting up yet. His head rolled towards her as she entered, a smile forming on his face.

 

“Agent Le Fey, correct?” asked Banner as he focused on her.

 

“Correct,” confirmed Rowen. “But you can call me Rowen if you'd prefer. My team will be working closely with you.”

 

Nodding, Banner shifted in his bed. “You might as well call me 'Bruce' after today. Sorry about chasing you like that, by the way.”

 

“I drew your attention,” dismissed Rowen. “It was my call.” She took the chair beside Banner's bed, making sure she was close enough that they wouldn't b easily overheard. “You remember everything then?”

 

The look that slid over Bruce's face was some strange mix between knowing and sly. “Yes. I never lot sight of you the entire time I was chasing you through the hall.”

 

Rowen stared at Bruce for a moment uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

 

“I'm positive,” replied Bruce with a wink. “I never lot sight of you.”

 

“Of course not,” agreed Rowen, smiling at Bruce and mouthing 'thank you'.

 

Bruce dropped his voice even further. “Your secrets are yours to keep.”

 

Chuckling, Rowen leaned back a little in her chair. It seemed she had underestimated Bruce. Well, she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, she could use some more sane friends. “So how are you feeling?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just curious, has anyone caught the reference in Rowen's last name yet?


	7. #7: Donettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't take the last package of donettes from the vending machine. Otherwise, this will happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is the replacement chapter for the authors note. Also, please, if anyone feels there is conflicting information ANYWHERE in this story, let me know. I have read and reread through everything but I still miss things on occasion and I don't have a beta so please, please let me know so I can fix it. I always welcome criticism as long as it's something constructive I can work with.

Rowen blinked at the sight in front of her, wondering why it was her agent's desk was buried beneath a mountain of paper. And it was literally a mountain. She's pretty sure the entire response division's paperwork is currently on Corvin's desk. 

“Do I want to know what happened here?” asked Rowen, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She knew it was Coulson. The action reeked of him, without the fact that his scent permeated the paper.

Corvin groaned from behind the pile of paper punishment. “I don't know, ma'am. I arrived this morning and my desk looked like this. And it's all due before 1700!”

Sighing, Rowen tried to think of a reason why Agent Coulson might be trying to bury her agent in paperwork, but nothing came to mind. It wasn't as if Corvin had a habit of doing things that would piss other agents off. “Have you done anything recently that might have ticked someone on the senior staff off in the last 24 to 48 hours?”

“No, ma'am, I swear,” assured Corvin. “I've been on my best behavior! I was at my desk all day yesterday except when I went to the vending machines or use the latrine!”

Rowen's eyes narrowed slightly. “What did you get at the vending machine, Corvin?”

“Mini doughnuts, ma'am,” replied Corvin. “They're my favorite.”

Shaking her head, Rowen turned toward the exit. “That explains it. Do your own paperwork, Agent. Don't worry about the rest, I'll get this straightened out. You might want to find another favorite snack food thought.”

“Ma'am?” asked Corvin, looking confused.

“Just do it, Agent,” ordered Rowen before she turned around and left. She needed to stop by the local convenience store before the morning rush, otherwise they might run out.

\----------- 

“Agent Coulson,” stated Rowen as she stepped into the lab belonging to Simmons and Fritz. It had taken almost half an hour to track the senior agent down, which had just managed to irritate her more. There were far better things she could spend her time doing than tracking Coulson down, though in retrospect the labs should have been her first stop. He was finalizing his own team after all.

Coulson and Hill both looked up at her from where they stood beside Fritz. And from the look on the man's face, whatever the two agents had been doing was more than a little annoying. The scientist looked ready to cause someone harm; a rarity for Fitz that meant they must have been pressing for results. She considered just leaving and letting the scientist tear the senior agents apart with one of his particle toys.

“Yes, Agent Le Fey?” asked Coulson mildly, not even blinking as he met her irritated look.

Rowen just walked up to Coulson and pulled a package of donettes from her pocket, offering the sugary treat to the unflappable agent. “Here.”

He took the donettes with a raised eyebrow, feigning confusion. He knew exactly what this was about and the faint twitch at the corner of his eye said as much. “Is there a reason you are giving these to me, Agent Le Fey?”

“Yes, I expect you to redistribute the paperwork you buried Agent Corvin under to the people who should actually be filling it out,” replied Rowen. “And don't even think of dropping it on my desk. Otherwise, I will lock Agent Barton in a room filled with duplicated and conflicting requests he must sign and a pink pen to do it with. Nothing else. And those duplicates will end up everywhere in S.H.I.E.L.D., to the point where you will never find them all. Which will lead to some very, very confusing situations that Sitwell will have to deal with and he will get revenge. Clear?”

“Crystal,” replied Coulson dryly. “You know, you really shouldn't threaten a superior officer.”

Rowen rolled her eyes and headed for the door. “If said superior actually acted like an adult and didn't bury one of my agents under senseless paperwork as revenge for taking the last package of donettes, I wouldn't have to threaten anyone.” Pausing just inside the doorway, she turned toward Coulson and added, with her best warning grin in place, “And don't think I can't carry out those threats. You, of all people, should know I'm a lot more dangerous than I look.”

Still smiling threateningly, she walked out.

\------------------------- 

Fritz whistled from the back of the lab while Simmons emerged where she'd been tucked behind a machine, attempting to modify it for mobile purposes. “Who was that?”

“Agent Le Fay,” replied Coulson calmly. “She's heading up the Avenger's ground support.”

Simmons shook her head in surprise. “I can see why. If she'll speak to you like that, I doubt she'll allow anyone to push her around.”

Fritz nodded slowly, still staring at where Rowen had disappeared. “Yeah, it's as if Agent Coulson and Agent Hill had a daughter.”

“Never say that again in my presence,” ordered Coulson with a growl. He tucked the donettes into his pocket and headed towards the exit to the lab, looking slightly sick and ignoring the duel cringes from Fritz and Simmons.

Hill shook her head, looking towards Fritz as she followed Coulson. “Never even suggest it again while either of us are near by. We will hurt you if you do. Especially Coulson.”

As soon as Hill was out of the room, Fritz turned to Simmons. “This is not a good way to begin a working relationship.”

Simmons just shook her head. “I'm curious why it was such a disturbing idea. You don't suppose he and Hill are intimate do you?”

Fritz looked thoughtful, looking after the agents curiously. “Could we have hit closer to home than intended?”

“Maybe,” replied Simmons with a smile. “We can always find out, in the name of science.”

“Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?” asked Fritz, almost looking giddy at the idea.

“Run a genetic probability program factoring in both Agent Hill and Agent Coulson's DNA and see what we get!” exclaimed Simmons happily, turning to one of the computers ad starting the program.

\------------ 

The next morning, as the team stumbled into the room, they found there was a chart on the white board that had taken up permanent residence at the front of the room. At the top was coffee, with the words [Fury, Sitwell, and Hill] next to it. Next down was donettes with just the word [Sitwell] beside it. At the bottom it read: “Never take the last package of donettes from the vending machines. You will be buried in paperwork for a month if you do.” 

Rowen glanced up as the recruits entered, nodding at them and taking a sip from a ceramic mug. “Alright, this morning we're going to spend a few minutes going over what we don't do when it comes to snack foods and caffeine. Next time, whoever pisses Sitwell off will be responsible for buying the donettes. Assuming he can even run out again.”

“Ma'am?” asked Corvin, furrowing his brow. “What does that mean?”

She just smiled mysteriously. “Don't worry about it, Agent. I've taken care of it. However, in the future, please refrain from taking the last package of donettes. From any vending machine in SHIELD. I've seen Sitwell climb ten flights of stairs for a package before. No vending machine is safe.”

\------------------- 

Rowen chuckled as an irritated looking Agent Coulson stepped inside the break room an hour later, looking normal. Except for the fact his suit appeared covered in powdered sugar. “Very fun, Agent Le Fay.”

“I don't know what you mean, Agent Coulson,” countered Rowen with a smirk, offering him a cup of coffee. “Coffee?”

“You prefer tea,” reminded Coulson, even as he took the cup. “Also, message received. I won't bury your agents in paperwork again unless they've generated it.”

“And they won't take the last package of donettes from the vending machine again,” assured Rowen, her smirk turning into a grin. “Though, I'm relatively certain your personal supply is sufficient to last for a while.”

“Stacking multiple boxes of donettes in my office where they will fall on me does not qualify as establishing a private supply,” countered Coulson, his frown twitching a bit.

“If you can eat them, it's a supply,” replied Rowen simply before she turned towards the door with her own cup of tea. “Enjoy, Agent.”

“Le Fay,” cut in Coulson calmly, glancing over at her. “Before you go, how did you explain this away out of curiosity? I'm assuming you told your agents something, after all, and the fact I'm alive is still Level 7 clearance only.”

She shrugged mildly, grinning over her shoulder. “I just told them Sitwell was responsible. They can cower in fear from him for a while. He needs something to make him seem threatening, after all.”

Coulson opened his mouth to speak, but Rowen held up her hand to stop him. “Something other than his frightening combat proficiency. I don't relish the idea of visiting my agents in medical for doing something stupid. And Sitwell is almost more innocuous than you.”

“Point,” agreed Coulson mildly. “Though I still think I win that one.”

She looked him over for a moment, then shook her head. “No, you look too military. He doesn't. I'm sorry Coulson, but you loose that one.”


	8. #8: Don't Listen to Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki causes trouble and Rowen has to clean it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, at this point I'm going to begin introducing Irish to the story mostly because it's one of the five languages Rowen claims as her native tongue. Translations are at the bottom of the story. Also, as I don't actually speak Irish myself, I am forced to use Google Translate or Babblefish. So any mistakes are the fault of those websites (though I appreciate being corrected so I can correct the errors and keep those corrects in mind for the future).

“Hello dear.”

 

Rowen would have jumped if she weren't so used to the voice's owner popping in at random. Sighing, she turned to face the person standing behind her. “Hello Athair.”

 

Loki offered her a smile as he crossed the break room, pausing to drop a kiss on Rowen's forehead. “How are you, sweetheart?”

 

“Same as always,” replied Rowen wearily. “What are you doing here?”

 

“It's Thor's birthday today,” replied Loki, smile still in place. “I was just dropping off his present.”

 

Nodding, Rowen turned back to the tea she was making. “Where did you leave it so I can make sure no innocents are caught in the cross fire?”

 

“Oh I wouldn't leave it lying around, that would be irresponsible,” admonished Loki calmly, stepping next to Rowen to make his own cup of tea. “I asked a young lady to deliver it for me. She seemed all too happy to comply. Agent...Kaswaski I believe. Sweet young lady, but gullible. She bought my line about wanting to reconcile with my brother.”

 

The sip of tea Rowen had been taking that exact moment stuck in her throat briefly before she spit it at the wall directly in front of her. “Kaswaski?! Father! She's one of  _ my _ agents!”

 

“Oh relax dear, it's just a little sticky treat for Thor,” assured Loki calmly, shaking his head. “Completely harmless to all mortals, I swear.”

 

“By Mother's spear,” muttered Rowen, turning on her toe and bolting towards the door. “That isn't my concern!”

 

Racing down the hallway, she headed towards the labs where most of the Avengers tended to amass. Namely because two of the five practically lived there and Tony was always messing with everyone else's weapons. Or, as he said, 'improving' them. Usually, he just used it as an excuse to blow things up. Unfortunately, today any explosions would probably be curtsey of her father.

 

It wasn't that she was actually afraid someone was going to get hurt by her father's prank; if he said it was harmless, then it was harmless. He was a master of knowing what was actually “harmless” and what wasn't. Her concern was with his conviction that no one would get caught in the cross fire. That was less of a certainty and well no one may be hurt, having people going after her father, again, wasn't appealing. Not that she really expected that to never happen again, but a girl can dream. Plus, there was the concern of punishment towards her Agent for delivering the “present” to begin with. At SHIELD, the messengers did, occasionally, get shot.

 

Slowing as she approached the labs, Rowen carefully checked each one for any sign of her missing agent but found no indication either Angelia or Thor were anywhere in the labs. Which left the gym. If they weren't there, she had no hope of finding them.

 

Thankfully, the labs were empty right at this particular moment, mostly because everyone had been herded out for lunch. Finding a corner that wasn't covered by video cameras was tricky, but not impossible and as soon as she had stepped into one, she disappeared only to reappear in the woman's locker room beside the gym. A mercifully empty locker room. Not that she hadn't dismissed her sudden appearances as people not noticing her before, but it was nice when she didn't have to explain it away.

 

Dashing out of the locker room, she burst into the gym just as Thor was pulling at the ribbon on the box.

 

“Thor, stop!” shouted Rowen, trying to reach the man in time.

 

Thor looked up at her shout, as did Barton, Natasha, Angelia, and Steven. However, it was too late. The ribbon slipped from the box, causing the lid to pop open. A loud bang cut through the room, causing everyone to jump as the box in Thor's hand's exploded upwards like the time Barton had tried to use a pressure cooker and screwed up.

 

For a moment, Rowen blinked. Then had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the sight in front of her. Her father had been right, no innocents were at risk. The box, and the bubble-gum bomb inside, had been constructed to blow upwards at Thor, rather than out. Which left Thor's head covered in the gooy, pink substance which both father and daughter had found so entertaining when they'd discovered it's existence.

 

Blinking rapidly, Thor stared down at the bubblegum now coating his beard. “What is this strange substance?”  
  


“It's gum, Thor,” replied Steven, shaking his head as Barton burst into laughter beside him. Even Natasha looked like she was struggling to contain her laughter. 

 

Angelia, on the other hand, looked like she was struggling between horrified and laughing manically at the now sticky alien god. “Thor, oh my god, are you okay?”

 

“He's fine, Agent Kaswaski,” assured Rowen as she managed to choke back her amusement. She just had to keep from picturing Thor without hair until she could get somewhere safe. “It's just gum. I think.”

 

“Agent Kaswaski, where did you procure that package?” asked Steven, his eyes narrowing slightly in disapproval.

 

Angelia gulped, shuffling her feet slightly and looking down in shame. “I- um, well....Loki asked me to give it to Thor!”

 

“Loki?!” repeated Steven. Barton winced, which almost made Rowen wince in sympathy. Loki might be her father, and she might love him dearly, but even she was pissed over the whole mind control thing. Even if he was insane when it happened.

 

“Why would you deliver anything from Loki to Thor?!” exclaimed Steven, his voice going higher than Rowen had thought possible. He also looked exceedingly pissed, which made Rowen move just a touch closer to Angelia. It wouldn't do for Angelia to get hurt. Plus, well, she found the way Steven had said her father's name a touch insulting. It wasn't as if her father was still insane after all...well, no more than he always had been at least.

 

“He- he said he wanted to make amends!” shouted Angelia, her voice becoming panicked and fearful. “He just wanted to reconnect! He said he was sorry and he wanted his brother back! Plus, he was in a suit like all the rest of us! I thought maybe he'd joined us...”

 

Natasha glanced at Rowen, raising an eyebrow at her in concern. It almost made Rowen shiver. No one knew her father was Loki. Hell, no one knew she wasn't human, and she'd like it to remain that way, thank you very much. Especially Coulson, Romanoff, and Barton. Explaining to someone that your father really isn't a bad guy and he just stabbed and brainwashed you or your partner/handler because he'd undergone a temporary bout of insanity didn't usually workout well.

 

Thor broke all the tension in the room though simply by laughing. In fact, he laughed so hard that he nearly fell over. “Ah, Loki! Indeed, this is a wonderful trick and a sign my brother doth wish to make amends! A good joke, my brother!”

 

One of Rowen's eyebrows rose in surprise, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she opted to squeeze Angelia's shoulder reassuringly and turn to Steven. “We know Loki's a charismatic being and that he can talk his way out of a paper bag with his silver tongue. Angelia didn't know, as she's stated. Plus, if Thor's right, Loki really does just want to make amends.”

 

Steven sighed, nodding. “We'll need to do a security check and send out a memo immediately to all agents, but it looks like there was no harm done this time. This is a serious breach in security, though.”

 

“Steven, the man brought a Chatari army down on the city of New York,” pointed out Rowen mildly. “I'm relatively sure sneaking into SHIELD is nothing to him.”

 

“It's still disconcerting,” growled Steven, his eyes narrowing slightly. “This should be more concerning to you, Agent Le Fay.”

 

“I am concerned,” confirmed Rowen with a roll of her eyes. Well, no, she wasn't. She knew her father's magic better than anyone; she damn well knew he could walk into SHIELD if he cared to. The fact that he didn't meant that he had no wish to screw with the organization. “But what are we really gonna do until Stark invents that anti-magic stuff he keeps talking about?”

 

“Improve the awareness of everyone, for starters,” countered Steven, his stance shifting. “You should have warned your agents about him already.”

 

“Warn my agents about an alien god we didn't even know was on the loose again,” growled Rowen, her eyes narrowing. “Right. I'll get right on that now that I know it's a concern. However, I've been more concerned with introducing them to threat's we're likely to actually _see_ rather than ones we aren't. There are only so many hours in a day, after all. I like to prioritize my list of super villains for review.”

 

“Well add Loki to the top,” growled back Steven. “Because clearly, your agent's aren't well enough trained to know not to accept packages from him.”

 

“Then why don't you bloody well teach them,” shot back Rowen with a scowl of her own. “ _Clearly_ , you think you know which threats they need to be more aware of than _I_ do.”

 

“Because you clearly aren't informing your agents well enough to keep them from causing trouble!” shouted Steven, his patience finally snapping. “If you make a damn mistake, than take responsibility for it and _don't_ try to pass it off as some kind of protocol or agency-based threat assessment analysis!”

 

Growling, Rowen grabbed Angelia's shoulder and turned her towards the door of the gym. “Go fuck yourself, Steven. If you have a problem with how I'm teaching my team, take it up with Fury or Hill.” She turned completely away from Steve then, nearly dragging Angelia out of the gym.

 

\---------------------------------

 

For several moments after Rowen left with Angelia, the gym was silent. Mostly because everyone was having trouble believing someone had just told Steve off. It wasn't like it happened every day. Even Steve could count the number of times someone had truly told him off on one hand.

 

“Nice going, Captain Foot-in-Mouth,” congratulated Clint with a shake of his head. “You've managed to piss off a high-level agent who is probably almost as dangerous as Tasha and who will, at minimum, make your life hell for a month.”

 

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but a loud smack cut him off as Natasha whacked Clint on the back of the head. “You aren't helping, Clint.”

 

“Ow! C'mon Tasha!” exclaimed Clint, glaring halfheartedly at his partner. “Remember what she did to me that one time I pissed her off? I was shedding glitter for weeks.”

 

“I remember,” assured Natasha. “I was the one who gave her the location of your nest because, yes, that time you deserved it. Every time you've deserved it. Just as Steve will deserve it this time.”

 

“What did I do?” asked Steve, his voice filled with confusion as the anger and adrenaline from earlier faded away. Mostly because Thor was happily chewing on his beard in an attempt to remove the gum and it was a little disturbing/entertaining.

 

“You yelled at Agent Le Fay for no reason,” explained Natasha, her arms crossing calmly in front of her chest. “She's right: there are easily several hundred enemies she's expected to expose her team to and she can only do so many at a time and expect them to remember what was said. Loki hadn't appeared for months, Thor never said anything about him being free, so she made the same assumption we all did: that he wasn't a high-level threat anymore. We know otherwise now, but that doesn't mean she should have introduced him before now. Not with people like Dr. Doom and agencies like the Ten Rings and AIM to worry about.”

 

“Besides,” added Clint, his look uneasy and clearly portraying his shock he was even saying anything, “Loki pranked Thor; that's it. We'll put up a security alert, but it doesn't seem likely he did anything other than blow bubblegum in Thor's face. So relax, leave it, and make sure you apologize to Rowen tomorrow. Otherwise, you'll regret it.”

 

“Agreed,” confirmed Natasha. “She's very creative and you don't want to be on the receiving end of one of her pranks.”

 

Steve glared at them halfheartedly. “I'll consider it after I have a talk with Fury about this. Clint, help Thor get that junk out of his hair.”

 

“You got it, Cap,” assured Clint with a grin. “C'mon Thor, I've got some scissors and a razor back in my quarters.”

 

\------------------------------

 

The next morning, Gent stumbled into the room they used as a meeting room followed closely by Corvin. Both men blinked and paused, however, when they spotted the steaming cup sitting on the desk. There was a sticky note attached, claiming the cup for Rowen. An intricate design had been drawn on the sleeve of the paper cup and there was a mark for a local bakery, Backalley's Bakery, on the front.

 

“What the heck?” asked Gent, his eyes narrowed on the cup.

 

Corvin shook his head, pulling Gent inside. “Someone brought Agent Le Fay coffee. So what?”

 

Gent opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut almost immediately as Rowen walked in, pushing past both men and dropping a folder on the table forcefully. She paused, looking at the cup as she turned before a faint smile spread over her lips and she picked it up to take a sip.

 

“Well, someone likes you, Agent Le Fay,” remarked Gent, dropping into his chair.

 

She snorted slightly and shook her head, writing something out on the board as the others stumbled in shortly after. When she stepped away a moment later, it read as follows:

 

“Tip #7: Loki is not an agent of SHIELD, no matter what he says. Do not accept any packages from him and do not do anything he says, no matter how funny the results may be.”

 

Below that, she stuck a photo of bald, beardless Thor to the board with the note: “And sometimes, the results will be VERY funny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Athair = father


	9. Eye-patches, eyeballs, and stealing Roger's Underwear

“Hey Witchy, Fury needs you in his office ASAP.”

 

Rowen sighed as she looked up towards the ceiling where Barton was leaning out of a displaced ceiling tile. “Do I want to know why?”

 

“Because your agents are stupid,” replied Clint, dropping down through the hole to land on her desk.

 

Groaning, she slid her chair backwards so Clint could actually sit on the desk as opposed to perch there like a bird. She hated when he got shoe prints on her desk; it was a pain to clean up. “What happened now? And who was involved?”

 

“Hunter and Gent,” replied Clint as he sat down, leaning forward against his knees. “Or as I'm gonna start calling them: Fred and George.”

 

“No Harry Potter references,” ordered Rowen with a shake of her head as she swiveled clear of her desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “You'll confuse everyone like you did that time with the agent on loan and the Witchy nickname.”

 

Clint snickered. “That was pretty funny though, when she said your “cover” name was the worst cover name she'd ever heard. I thought she was going to sink into the ground when Coulson told her it was your real name.”

 

Her lips twitched up slightly. “That was entertaining, but not my point. Back to my idiot agents. What did they do?”  
  


“Do you want the long or short version?” asked Clint as he leaned backwards.

 

Rowen shrugged. “Which is more likely to make me leave them to fend for themselves against Fury's wrath?”

 

“Either,” admitted Clint with a shrug. “Probably both.”

 

“Give me the long version then,” decided Rowen with a sigh. “Might as well get anything surprising out of the way. That way I won't kill them in front of Fury.”

 

“Right,” laughed Clint. “Fury might have already done that already. So, they...”

 

\----------------------------

 

_Hunter and Gent's voices echoed through the vents, louder than two men sneaking around should have been. Well, it's mostly Gent's voice bouncing around. Hunter just occasionally grunts and gives one syllable answers. Their voices carry at first, bouncing around the metal ducts before slowly solidifying as they come closer and closer to one of Clint's many 'nests', tucked away down a side path for the vents. As they slipped passed the entrance to the shoot off however, they failed to notice him. Which meant Gent failed to stop talking._

 

“ _I'm telling you, Hunter, there has to be something good there,” insisted Gent, even though it didn't look like Hunter was saying anything to indicate he didn't believe the other agent. “It's the perfect hiding place.”_

 

_Hunter grunted in response, but continued to follow Gent none the less. The first man's words became less cohesive after that as he moved further from the side passage, distorting anything more he said. For a moment, Clint just listened as the two boys kept crawling down the main vent,then turned out to follow them as soon as he thought they were far enough ahead not to notice him. Hunter might spot him, regardless of what Clint did; the former merc is frighteningly observant. Gent though, he probably wouldn't notice anything. Witchy and Markson had both equated the young agent to Clint in terms of his personality and target-based orientation, and Clint had to admit it was true. The hyper-focused nature that Gent was currently displaying was the same kind Clint could fall into in the field._

 

_Of course, Clint's situational awareness is pretty much astronomically better than most peoples because life happened. But Gent's young and doesn't have the mountains of emotional baggage that Clint does. Or the scars. That means, he's not as careful about his surroundings as Clint is._

 

_Lucky for Clint._

 

_Of course, Hunter was still more aware than Gent; Clint's seen the kid's file and it made him shutter. Which meant Clint waited a few seconds before going after the boys. It wouldn't do to get caught slinking after Rowen's younger agents, even if it was by said agents. Besides, if they're up to no good, then it could be his chance to get some blackmail. Or at least a few laughs._

 

_Creeping after the pair, he managed to slink close enough to hear what Gent was saying. The young agent had dropped his voice a bit, but he was still keeping up a pretty much constant one-sided conversation with the man beside him. It honestly reminded Clint of his own missions with 'Tasha- the ones that usually had her duct taping his mouth shut. Or, well, wanting to._

 

“ _So there's gotta be something good under there,” insisted Gent. “I mean, he always wears it, right? What better place to hide something good. Who's going to search someones empty eye socket? I bet there's a flash drive under there with loads of confidential data.”_

 

Empty eye socket...are they talking about Fury? _Clint nearly fell over as he realized the likely target of the two boys. They were planning to steal whatever was behind Fury's eye patch or the patch itself._ Damn, those boys are brave. Or they're just too stupid to realize how bad of an idea this is.

 

_Smirking, Clint began to creep behind them again, keeping them in sight but hanging back a little more. He was not going to miss this for anything. If they succeeded, he wanted to potentially recruit them to his side like Kaswaski. If they failed, he'd laugh his ass off. Either way, it was worth his time to watch this._

 

_When they reached the vents leading to Fury's office, Clint turned off on a cross branch and crawled around the edge. He knew the vents around Fury's and Coulson's offices better than anyone- the two spies themselves included. The side vent above Fury's desk and to the side would be the best place to watch this chaos, regardless of how the boys chose to enter the office._

 

_Creeping up to the vent itself, Clint spotted Fury passed out on his couch just below the ceiling vent across the room. Of course, if Le Fay's people were smart, they would lower from the vent above Fury and never touch the floor of his office. At least, that's how Clint would do it._

 

_Sure enough, the vent lifted out of it's place a moment later and Gent's head appeared out of the hole. He disappeared again for a minute before his feet slid out of the vent, followed by his legs. Clint could see the rope wrapped around his body as he carefully lowered himself out of the vent and gradually let the rope take his weight._

 

_Then, as Gent's head cleared the ceiling, his hand slipped on the edge of vent and he began to fall. He dropped several inches before tension on the rope brought him to a sharp stop, dangling above the sleeping Fury. It was a lucky move; if he'd landed on Fury, there was no telling what damage would have been done. Thankfully the ceilings in Fury's office were tall._

 

_For a moment, Gent hung in the air, looking more than a little freaked out. Understandably so; Clint had been ready to bolt if necessary. He did not want to be caught in the vents in conjunction with this chaos if either agent actually fell on top of Fury. That would just be bad, and probably get someone killed._

 

_Silently, he watched as Gent flashed a thumbs up to what had to Hunter. A second later, he began to slowly drop towards Fury again. His breathing was visibly fast, though it was obvious he was trying to be as calm as possible. When he was directly over Fury, Clint saw him shoot Hunter a 'stop' gesture with his hand and pull out a small pair of scissors. Then, he reached for the eye-patch._

 

_Gent never even touched the fabric._

 

“ _If you know what's good for you, you'll stop right where you are.” Fury's dead calm voice cut through the room half a second before his good eye slid open._

 

_Gent screamed as he realized he was caught and began to flail for a moment, trying to get back up to the vent. However, all his flailing achieved was to pull Hunter down out of the vent above. The two landed in a pile on the floor before Fury, tangled in their rope like a pair of caught fish._

 

_Fury sighed from where he lay on the couch, eye closing again for a moment. “This is why I don't do naps.” Pushing himself into a sitting position and spinning to face the two agents sprawled on his floor, Fury gave them his best scowl. “So, either of you care to explain what the hell you were doing?”_

 

_Hunter pushed himself off of Gent, rolling to his feet and standing with a salute. He didn't move otherwise though and he didn't offer an explanation, just looked down at Gent expectantly. Clearly, he wasn't going to try to run or say anything. It was probably the smartest thing he could do; obviously someone had taught him what to do if he was ever captured._

 

_Gent, for his part, scrambled to his feet and offered a salute to Fury. “Director Fury, sir, we were just double checking the vent security. We wanted to see what the weak points in the system might be. You know, for security purposes.”_

 

“ _Right,” stated Fury, glaring down at the two young agents. “And I'm gonna actually get a week where nothing insane happens that threatens the security of the entire world. That was a load of bullshit, son.” Standing, Fury stepped forward to tower over the two younger men. “Now, I'm going to drag your SO up here and she is going to deal with this shit. Barton! Go get Le Fay, now. Tell her I want her in my office ASAP. And you two-”_

 

\----------------------------

 

“Wait a moment,” ordered Rowen, her accent slipping into her voice as she halted Clint's story. Honestly, there was probably nothing more of value to this particular story. Anything else she needed to know, she'd find out when she spoke to Fury. Clint's part in this was a far more pressing matter. “You watched them do this?”

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Clint with a grin. “The vents are awesome for that.”

 

“So you witnessed my agents doing something incredibly stupid and you didn't bother to stop them or even attempt to dissuade them,” repeated Rowen, her accent growing thicker.

 

“No, where's the fun in that?” asked Clint, his grin falling slightly. Nerves began to play across his face, indicating that he knew trouble was coming. And oh, was trouble coming for him.

 

“Barton, I want you to get out of my sights, now,” growled Rowen, standing so she towered over archer. Her voice was level, even though the anger behind it was pretty apparent. She didn't see a good reason to hide it, after all. “And if I catch you anywhere near my team in the next week, I will pluck your proverbial feathers and leave you in the middle of the SHIELD training grounds, tied up, with that tattoo on your arse on a hawk tangled in a spider's web on full display for everyone to see. Got it?”

 

Barton gulped and scrambled back into the ceiling before she could even blink. She knew he wouldn't come near her again for the rest of the week, though he'd probably bug Tom, which was fine. He could harass him as much as he liked. She just didn't want him near any of the new agents; they didn't need to get any ideas from him.

 

“I don't think I've ever seen him run that fast.”

 

Tom's voice startled Rowen slightly, though not enough to make her jump. He was as bad about sneaking up on people as Barton and her father, so she was more than a little used to it.

 

Gathering a file she needed to give Fury anyway, she tucked it under her arm and turned to Tom. “He knows I'll do it and that Natasha will just laugh rather than help him.”  
  


“I'd laugh too,” remarked Tom, following Rowen as she exited the room. “How'd you know about the tattoo though?”

 

“I've had the dubious pleasure of seeing Barton's naked ass more times than I want to think about,” replied Rowen with a grimace. “I've worked with him and Natasha one time too many for my sanity.”

 

Tom's laughing followed Rowen down the hall as she headed into a stairwell and up to Fury's office.

 

\----------------------------

 

The hallway was empty when Rowen exited onto the level where Fury's office was located. Normally, there would be at least a few agents mulling around in front of the few high-level offices located on that floor; the fact that there was no one present spoke to how angry Fury must have been. Heading towards his office, she opened his office door without knocking. He'd called her up; it wasn't like anyone else was going to be there.

 

Inside, Gent and Hunter sat against one wall, looking completely unphased. Across from them sat Fury, his eyes leveled at the two boys. She couldn't even begin to read the director's mood, his face set in a neutral position that could mean any number of things. _Well, that's a good thing at least. If I can't read what he's feeling, he can't be that pissed. Or perhaps that's more worrying._

 

Stepping fully into the room, Rowen moved around to stand in front of Fury's desk without a word. When Fury was ready to talk, he'd acknowledge her. It was a bit like dealing with her mother, actually. Only without the magic, influence, ferocity, and ability to raise the dead. Or stone-cold control.

 

“Agent Le Fay,” greeted Fury a moment later, shifting to lean forward. “I don't suppose Agent Barton apprised you of the situation, did he?”

 

“He did,” confirmed Rowen, glancing at her agents. With her there, their demeanor’s rapidly changed. Instead of casual and slumping, they sat up straight and managed to look like they were at attention. It was actually kind of funny that they showed her so much respect compared to Fury. Or maybe five minutes of dealing with silent Fury had bored them both into relaxing.

 

Fury looked unamused. “So you motherfuckers show respect now that your SO is here? Of course.”

 

Rowen kept her mouth shut and shot a look at her agents to do the same. The question was hypothetical and didn't need an answer.

 

Without missing a beat, Fury continued, his eyes falling back on Rowen. “I'm leaving their punishment in your hands, Agent Le Fay. I'm sure you'll work out something creative for them to do.” His glance fell back on the two agents, eyes narrowing. “Now, you two get your motherfucking asses out of my motherfucking office.” Gent scurried up and out like a kid just being released from time out. Hunter was more restrained, saluting Fury before he left like a proper soldier might.

 

Remaining where she was, Rowen watched her agents leave before turning back to Fury. As soon as the door clicked shut, the man motioned for Rowen to take a seat while pouring himself a drink. “Those two have some scary-ass fucking skills.”

 

“So I heard,” remarked Rowen, shaking her head and taking the offered shot. “I almost hate to punish them.”

 

“I wouldn't go overboard,” advised Fury. “Just make it clear they're not allowed to steal their Director's eye-patch.”

 

“That won't be hard,” assured Rowen. “I'm assuming you scared them thoroughly before I got here.”

 

“I tried to,” muttered Fury. “I think they're more afraid of you, though.”

 

Shaking her head a bit, Rowen took a sip of her drink. “They're afraid of what I'll make them do as punishment.”

 

Sighing, Fury glanced at the door and shook his head. “They're gonna be another Strike Team Delta, aren't they?”

 

“Possibly,” confirmed Rowen. “The Avengers have taken a liking to them. Barton is teaching Kaswaski the vent system, Corven and Stark of all people have found common ground, Hunter keeps sparring with Romanoff, and Gent is just sort of harassing everyone as is expected. Though, I think he'd honestly get along well with Rogers if he could just stop joking around so much.”

 

“Speaking of Captain Rogers, I need to speak with you about something,” stated Fury, eying her wearily. Rowen just cocked her eyebrow in return, encouraging him silently to speak. “Do you happen to know how all of Captain Roger's underwear went missing with most of it managing to end up crammed in my sofa?”

 

Blinking innocently and keeping her face completely straight, Rowen tilted her head a little like she was confused. “How would I know anything about that, director?”

 

“Maybe because he pissed you off last?” suggested Fury, his eyes narrowing at her suspiciously. She was sure he suspected her, but the reality was that he didn't have any proof she did it. The one good thing about having a father who's a master of causing mischief: she learned very young how to cover her tracks.

 

Shrugging a bit, she offered him a frown and furrowed brow as if wracking her brain for some clue as to who might have stolen all of Steve's underwear from his room and hidden it (it hadn't exactly been hard to do, so really she could suggest anyone). “I'm sorry, sir. I don't know. Did you speak with Stark? Or Agent Barton? Perhaps they know something.”

 

That particular prank was right up either Stark or Barton's alley and was designed for exactly that purpose. First thing Loki taught her: when pulling a prank, if you are concerned about being caught, pull a prank that matches something someone else would pull. Personally, she would have rather done something with Steve's shield, but she had plenty of time to design a prank more to her liking. This was simply a warning.

 

For a moment, Fury eyed her in silence like he didn't believe her (which he probably didn't). Then, muttering something that sounded like it might have to do with alien gods, he motioned for Rowen to leave. “You sure your dad didn't teach you jack shit?”

 

“I just said he didn't primarily raise me,” pointed out Rowen, standing calmly and offering the director a hint of her father's smirk. “I didn't say he never taught me anything.”

 

Shaking his head, Fury just motioned for her to leave. “I don't want to know, otherwise I'm gonna start regretting keeping you around, even if you did help save Cheese.”

 

“Yes, Director,” stated Rowen simply, nodding to the man before she left the room.

 

There was no sign of Hunter or Gent when she stepped into the hall, which was exactly what she expected. Heading for the elevator, Rowen opted to let the agents stew for a night. They knew punishment was coming. In the mean time, there was someone she needed to talk to. After all, it wouldn't do for her to punish her team too severely, would it?

 

\--------------------------------------

 

The next morning, her team came stumbling into the classroom, all looking weary. Of course it would have spread among them about Gent and Hunter being caught. And of course it would have spread that they were probably in deep shit. After she made them all train with massive hang-overs, they're bound to be weary.

 

She hadn't bothered to punish Kaswaski for her little mess with Loki- it just hadn't seemed fair. So, Kaswaski made up some story about a punishment she hadn't actually been made to complete and they'd just gone with it. This time though? This time Gent and Hunter were going to get it.

 

Settling at the front of the room, Rowen leaned on the table and pointed to her white board. “Okay, because apparently this needs to be said, if you want to survive at SHIELD you must _never_ , under any circumstances, try to see what's behind Fury's eye-patch. Yes, there are secrets there. There are secrets everywhere in this place. No, you will never know what they are. They are called secrets and not facts for a reason.” 

 

Looking at Gent and Hunter, she offered them a bit of a threatening smile. “Gent, Hunter, you two have been slated for what we like to call cleaning duty for this week. There's a lab where we keep cybernetic and glass eyeballs containing recording equipment. It's in the equipment shed. Don't ask why we have it, just know we do. You two will be spending this week cleaning eyeballs, all of them. That amounts to approximately 246 eyes between the two of you. Understand?”

 

“I don't get it,” argued Gent. “You hid all of Roger's underwear under Fury's office couch. Why aren't you in trouble?”

 

One of Rowen's eyebrows rose in challenge, her eyes leveling at her team. Of course, that particular incident would have gotten out and someone would have tried to finger her. Typical. That was the problem with working for an intelligence agency: everyone liked to think they had all the facts about everything.

 

“Because despite what Fury believes, he can't actually prove that I hid all of Captain Roger's underwear in his office. Which I didn't.” It's true, not all of Roger's underwear ended up in Fury's office. Some of the pairs are under the mattress in Stark's bedroom and there are a few pairs which she may or may not have sent to Phil as a joke. And those aren't counting the ones May'd slipped into various places around the building. After all, where's the fun in stealing the underwear of a national treasure if you just hide it all in one place?

 

“My point stands, don't try to steal Fury's eye-patch again, clear?” stated Rowen, narrowing her eyes at the agents to make sure her point was getting across. Not that eye-ball cleaning duty was a fun one; that alone would probably discourage future attempts to steal Fury's eye-patch. But, just to make sure.... “Oh, and anyone who tries that again will be punished at Director Fury's discretion. And I've seen him make people wash the Helicarrier while it's in flight. Clear?”

 

“Clear,” chorused back the group of agents, all of them significantly paler than before.

 

Nodding her approval, Rowen turned back to the front of the board. “Good. Today, we're going to talk about Loki....”


End file.
